DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Partial List off Successful and Popular Plays. Large Catalosue Free. 
Price 15c each. Postpaid, Unless Different Price Is Given 



DRAMAS, COMEDIES, 
ENTERTAINMENTS, Etc. 

M. F. 

Aaron Boggs, Freshman, 3 

acts, 2J^ hrs (25c) 8 8 

Abbu San of Old Japan, 2 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 15 

After the Game, 2 acts, 1^ 

hrs (25c) 1 9 

All a Mistake, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 4 4 

All on Account of Polly, 3 acts, 

2Vi hrs (25c) 6 10 

American Hustler, 4 acts, 2j4 

hrs (25c) 7 4 

As a Woman Thinketh, 3 acts, 

2^ hrs (25c) 9 7 

At the End of the Rainbow, 3 

acts, 2^4 hrs (25c) 6 14 

Bank Cashier, 4 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 8 4 

Black Heifer, 3 acts, 2 h. (25c) 9 3 
Boy Scout Hero, 2 acts, 1^4 hrs. 

(25c) 17 

Brookdale Farm, 4 acts, 2% 

hrs (25c) 7 3 

Brother Josiah, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Burns Rebellion, 1 hr (25c) 8 5 

Busy Liar, 3 acts, 2'4. h. (25c) 7 4 
Civil Service, 3 acts, 2^4 hrs. 

(25c) 6 5 

College Town, 3 acts, 2^ 

hrs (25c) 9 8 

Danger Signal, 2 acts, 2 hrs.. 7 4 
Daughter of the Desert, 4 

acts, 2% hrs (25c) 6 4 

Deacon Dubbs, 3 acts, 214 hrs. 

(25c) 5 5 

Deacon Entangled, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 6 4 

Down in Dixie, 4 acts, 2'^ 

hrs (25c) 8 4 

Dream That Came True, 3 

acts, 2'4 hrs (25c) 6 13 

Editor-in-Chief, 1 hr (25c) 10 

Enchanted Wood, IM h.(35c).Optnl. 
Everyyouth, 3 acts, 1 j^ h. (25c) 7 6 
Face at the Window, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 4 4 

Fun on the Podunk Limited, 

l*^ hrs (25c) 9 14 

Heiress of Hoetown, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 8 4 

Her Honor, the Mayor, 3 acts, 

2 hrs. (25c) 3 5 

High School Freshman, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 12 

Honor of a Cowboy, 4 acts, 214 

hrs (25c) 13 4 

Indian Days, 1 hr (50c) 5 2 



In Plum Valley, 4 acts, 2^ ' 

hrs (25c) 6 4 

Iron Hand, 4 acts, 2 hrs.. (25c) 5 4 
Jayville Junction, IV^ hrs. (25c) 14 17 
Kicked Out of College, 3 acts, 

214 hrs (25c) 10 9 

Kingdom of Heart's Content, 3 

acts, 2% hrs (25c) 6 12 

Laughing Cure, 2 acts, IH hrs. 

(25c) 4 5 

Lexington, 4 acts, 2J4 h..(25c) 9 4 
Little Buckshot, 3 acts, 2^4 hrs. 

CSc) 7 4 

Lodge of Kye Tyes, 1 hr.(25c)13 
Man from Borneo, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 5 2 

Mirandy's Minstrels (25c) Optn!. 

Mrs. Tubbs of Shantytown, 3 

acts, 214 hrs (25c) 4 7 

New Woman, 3 acts, 1 hr 3 6 

Old Maid's Club, 1^ hrs. (25c) 2 16 
Old Oaken Bucket, 4 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 8 6 

Old School at Hick'ry Holler, 

\% hrs (25c) 12 9 

On the Little Big Horn, 4 acts, 

21/^ hrs. (25c) 10 4 

Out in the Streets, 3 acts, 1 hr. 6 4 
Parlor Matches, 2 acts, IJ^ hrs. 

(25c) 4 5 

Poor Married Man, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 4 4 

Prairie Rose, 4 acts, 2]^ h.(25c) 7 4 

Rummage Sale, 50 min 4 10 

Rustic Romeo, 2 acts, 2^i 

hrs (25c) 10 12 

Savageland, 2 acts, 2J/^ hrs. (50c) 5 5 
School Ma'am, 4 acts, l->4 hrs. 6 5 
Scrap of Paper, 3 acts, 2 hrs.. 6 6 
Sewing for the Heathen, 40 min. 9 
Southern Cinderella, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 7 

Star Bright, 3 acts, 2i/^ h. (:5c) 6 5 
Teacher, Kin I Go Home? 2 

scenes, 35 min 7 3 

Those Dreadful Twins, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 6 4 

Thread of Destiny, 3 acts, 2J^ 

hrs (25c) 9 16 

Tony, the Convict, 5 acts, 2J/^ 

hrs (25c) 7 4 

Town Marshal, 4 acts, 2^ 

hrs (25c) 6 3 

Trial of Hearts, 4 acts, 2J4 hrs. 

(2Sc) 6 18 

Trip to Storyland, 154 hrs.(25c)17 23 
Uncle Josh, 4 acts, 2 J4 hrs. (25c) 8 . 3 
Under Blue Skies, 4 acts, 2 

hrs (2Sc) 7 10 

Under the Laurels, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 6 4 
When the Circus Came to 

Town, 3 acts, 2% hrs. (25c) 5 3 



T.S.DENISON & COMPANY,PubIlshers,154W.RandolphSt., Chicago 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT 

OUT 

A COMEDY IN ONE ACT 



' BY 

RAGNA B. ESKIL 

AUTHOR OF 

'Betty's and Bobby's Christmas.'' 




CHICAGO 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY 

Publishers 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 



CHARACTERS. 

Wardmarth Howe A Young Playivright 

Helen Howe His Wife 

Aunt Harriet Ward's Aunt 

A Bell Hop 



Time — y.^o in the Evening. 



Place — A Neiv York Hotel. 



Time of Playing — About Thirty-fiz'e Minutes. 



• ' • 



PROPERTIES. 



A large library table ; several theatrical magazines ; a 
framed photograph ; a desk telephone ; a face towel ; shav- 
ing soap lather ; a hand mirror ; a powder puflf ; a coat tree, 
on which are a man's opera coat and hat ; a derby hat ; a 
Gladstone bag ; a band box ; a reticule ; a newspaper ; a bottle 
of medicine. 



eOFYRIGHT. 1917, BY EBEN H. I^RRIS 

2 

OCT 20 1917 

©C/.0 48100 



I, NORR] 






AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 



STORY OF THE PLAY. 

This light comedy has to do with the dilemma of a 
young playwright and his wife, who are preparing to go 
to the first night performance of the husband's first play. 
They are embarrassed by the arrival of Aunt Harriet, who 
controls the purse strings of their income, and who is sup- 
posed to be antagonistic to everything theatrical. 

Needless to say there is a surprise ending. Aunt Harriet 
knows the truth and attends the performance with them. 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS. 

Howe — A man of about thirty, of pleasant appearance 
and a serious cast of mind. At first appearing in bath 
robe, later in a dress suit. 

Helen — A woman in her early twenties. She is dressed 
in a becoming gown of light colored material. Wears 
evening wrap at close of play. 

Aunt Harriet — A spare woman of about forty-five or 
so, with rather a prim manner, which seems, however, to 
be of habit rather than inborn characteristic. On entering 
she is plainly dressed, her clothing shows evidence of 
being village made. Later she is dressed in a prim and 
beruffled but rather becoming dark silk dress and a dark 
evening wrap. 

Bell Hop — Boy in uniform. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R. means right of the stage; C, center; R. C, right 
center ; L., left ; i E., first entrance ; U. E., upper entrance ; 
R. 5 E., right entrance up stage, etc. ; R. D., right door ; 
L. D., left door, etc. ; up stage, away from footlights ; 
down stage, near footlights. The actor is supposed to be 
facing the audience. 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 



Scene : The sitting room of a hotel suite. Door C. 
leading to corridor. Doors R. U. E. and L. leading to bed- 
chambers. The sitting room is well furnished. In center 
of the room is a large library table on zvhich are several 
theatrical magazines, a framed autographed photograph of 
an actress, and a telephone. A chair stands beside the 
table and several chairs are ranged at rear wall and about 
the room. Near C. entrance stands a coat tree on which 
are a man's dress overcoat and opera hat. 

The curtain rises on an empty stage. The doors to the 
lighted bedrooms are ajar. The telephone bell rings. 

Ward (from the left bedroom). Answer the 'phone, 
will you? 

Helen (from the right bedroom). I can't. Fm doing 
my hair. 

Ward. I can't either. I'm shaving. 

Helen. Well, then, it will have to keep on ringing. I 
simply can't get my hair right if I stop now. 

Ward (irritably). Oh, hang it. Let it ring to blazes. 
(Suddenly his tone changes to one of pleased anticipa- 
tion). Still it might be Miss Baker. 

Helen (interested). What's she calling you about 
again? (Ward strides into the sitting room zvith his face 
covered with shaving lather. He is zviping off the space 
around his mouth zvith a tozvel. He is a man of about 
thirty, of a pleasant appearance and a serious cast of 
mind. He wears a long bath robe.) 

Ward (to Helen). Those lines in the play we have 
been talking about. (Into phone, in best company voice.) 
Hello! Hello! (With growing irritation.) Is this Mr. 
Solomon? No ! (He hangs the receiver on the hook.) Hang 
that operator! (He strides back into his bedroom.) 

Helen. Who was it? 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 5 

Ward (shortly). Wrong number! 

Helen (comes out of her room, fussing with the fasten- 
ing of her dress. She is in her early twenties and is 
dressed in a becoming gown of light colored material. She 
carries a large hand mirror jand pozuder box with her, 
which she places upon the center table.) Do you know- 
Miss Baker is at least forty? 

Ward. What's that got to do with it? 

Helen. Oh — ^nothing. 

Ward. Well, if the leading actress in your first play 
calls you up, can't you be decent to her? 

Helen. Oh, sure, and I didn't mean anything, old dear, 
but it's just too funny to hear you change your voice. 

Ward (comes out in dress shirt sleeves. He is strug- 
gling with his cravat). Say, Helen, I can't get this blamed 
tie to go right. Won't you tie it? 

Helen. If you will hook my dress first. I can't reach. 

Ward (sighing). You always did drive a better bar- 
gain. (Helen stands in front of Ward, zvho fumbles zvifh 
the closing. Critically.) This is new, isn't it? 

Helen. Why, of course. You didn't expect the wife 
of the author of a play to go to the first night in an old 
dress, did you? And it's just a simple one. 

Ward. It's the simple ones that make the three figures 
on the bill, I've noticed. How much? 

Helen. Now, Ward, starting that again. 

Ward. Well, our bills simply have been terrific of late. 
With me giving up my law practice — 

Helen (interrupting) . That saved us money, didn't it? 

Ward (ruefully). Yes, I guess I never was cut out for 
the law and the law knew it as well as I did. I'm not hard 
enough. Just the same (waving his hand around the 
room) this expensive suite, these clothes and all cost some- 
thing. My, I wonder what Aunt Harriet would do if she 
knew — 

Helen. Why don't you wonder about something pleas- 
ant? Besides, now you will be getting royalties, and we 
won't need to worry what Aunt Harriet does. 



6 AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 

Ward. My dear, don't count the box receipts before 
the Sold Out sign goes up — and the critics haven't got 
busy yet. (He has finished with the dress.) There, that's 
done, and say, next time get a dress that fastens up in 
front. My fingers weren't raised for this. Now fix my 
tie. We've got to do some tall hustling. 

Helen (about to tie the cravat, steps back in surprise). 
Isn't that a new suit you have on? H-m, that's pretty nice. 
And how about the three figure price now, Mr. Man? 

Ward (apologetically). Well, my other suit was look- 
ing shabby — • 

Helen (promptly). So was mine. 

Ward (grinning). All right. We're even. It isn't every 
day we have a play produced, is it? 

Helen (lightly while she ties his tie). No, and we 
might as well do our celebrating before we know we 
shouldn't have celebrated. 

Ward. Right but cryptical. (With zvorricd air.) Say, I 
doubtless will be called on to make a curtain speech. 

Helen (commiseratlngly) . Oh, and you get so rattled 
when you speak in public. 

Ward (stiffly). Your candor is — 

Helen. Just wifely, dear. But really, do you think 
they will ask you ? 

Ward. They always call upon the author the first night. 
That's part of the first night cult. Why, if first-nighters 
couldn't call, "Author ! Author !" how would the hoi poilloi 
know that they knew it was first night? 

Helen. People do have the queerest notions of what is 
fun, don't they? But what will you say? 

Ward (nervously making a stand as though before an 
audience and bozving awkzvardly) . How's this? "I'm glad 
to see that so many of you like my little play. I thank you 
very much." (He bozvs awkwardly again and looks for 
Helen's approval.) 

Helen (critically). You bob so funny when you bow. 
(She imitates him.) Do it more the European way — like 
this. Bend from the hips. 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 7 

Ward (tries to do as she sdys and trips over a chair. 
Vindictively) . Yes, like this. That would be pretty on the 
stage, wouldn't it? 

Helen {trying not to laugh). You needn't do it so 
much. You're nervous. 

Ward {peevishly), I'm not. But how did the speech 
sound ? 

Helen. It was awfully short. I should think when 
you had a chance to talk you'd say more. Tell them that 
you thought the drama needed reforming, and that you had 
endeavored in this modest little play to carry out your 
ideal — 

Ward. Shucks ! The public doesn't want to be educated 
beyond its intellect. It isn't high-brow, you know. 

Helen {seriously). Oh, well, I am sure that anything 
that you would do would never be considered too intel- 
lectual. Here, the part in your hair isn't straight. Let 
me fix it. (Ward fumbles in his pocket for his comb and 
in giving it to Helen drops it on the floor. She uses it, 
and in returning it to him likewise drops it on the floor. 
Ward, in stooping for it, drops it again.) Dear me, I'm 
as nervous as you are. 

Ward {indignantly, at last pocketing the comb). I'm 
not nervous. 

Helen. Oh, no. But then, dear, I don't blame you. 
The success of this play does mean so much. If it's a suc- 
cess, just think. Aunt Harriet can't hold us under her 
thumb any more ! 

Ward. Well if it fails I certainly hope Aunt Harriet 
doesn't hear about it, for we certainly are hard up for 
money, little girl. {Nervously he pulls out his zvatch.) 
Say, it's only fifteen minutes now. {He goes into his 
bedroom and returns with his dress coat and a clothes 
brush, zvhich he uses all over himself.) 

Helen {nervously powdering her face before the hand 
mirror. Slowly.) Your name has been in the papers as 
the author of this play. Do you suppose there is any 
danger of Aunt Harriet seeing it? 



8 AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 

Ward (lightly). I don't worry much on that score. 
Aunt Harriet never reads anything but the Mission Weekly 
and the Four Corner Gazette. Dramatic news doesn't come 
before her Methodist vision. (Pauses in his brushing to 
shuffle the theatrical magazines on the table. Musingly.) 
I wonder what she'd say if she saw our collection of the- 
atrical magazines. 

Helen. Hasn't she a narrow life — no art, no clubs — 
no music — no dancing — no cards — no face powder — no 
theaters. Only housekeeping, gossip, church societies and 
tatting. My, I'm glad I wasn't brought up that way. 

Ward. Yet they say the old girl was rather gay in her 
youth. In fact, she once wrote a play for her school 
society. 

Helen. Goodness, it must have been some play. 

Ward. Well, she's changed since that day. Now I don't 
dare let her know I'm doing a play or she'd cut oflf our 
income in a second. And I despise being underhanded — 

Helen (soothingly). Well, it isn't your fault; it's the 
fault of that silly old will. The idea that she has the 
complete say-so over your money until you are forty years 
old. What could your grandfather have been thinking of? 
But then it won't matter any longer now that you are 
doing plays. 

Ward (grimly). No, but if the play's a failure it will 
matter. 

Helen. Oh, Ward, is it as bad as all that? 

Ward (glancing around the room). Well, I'd hate to 
think of this month's bills. 

Helen. Do you know I can't get rid of the feeling I've 
had lately that Aunt Harriet might make one of her swoop- 
ing visits down on' us one of these days. 

Ward (fervently). Heaven forbid! We'd be in a nice 
fix. 

Helen. Well, if the play's a success we won't care 
what she says, and if it isn't we'll pretend that you are 
studying law as you've been allowing her to understand 
that you are. But isn't it about time that we were leaving? 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 9 

Ward (consulting his watch). It's only twelve minutes 
now. I ordered the taxi for promptly at eight. 

Helen. I'll get my cloak ready. My, isn't it hot here? 
{She goes into the bedroom.) 

Ward (speaking after her). Yes, it's stifling, but we 
haven't much longer to stay. (Helen comes back carrying 
opera cloak.) It's strange Miss Baker doesn't telephone 
me. She said she surely would. 

Helen. What are you so anxious about her 'phoning 
for? 

Ward. We were uncertain about that last line, when 
she falls into the arms of her lover. We didn't know 
whether to say, "Do you really love me?" or "I love you." 
And I am sure I can't decide. 

Helen. Why don't you let her say just what comes most 
natural ? 

Ward. My dear, the natural things on the stage are the 
ones it's! taken longest to decide about. That line bothers 
me. I can't decide just which. I wish Miss Baker would 
call me — "Do you really love me?" "Oh, I love you." 

Helen (picking up the autographed photograph on the 
table, with a sidelong glance at Ward). Does she look as 
old on the stage as she does off it, Ward? 

Ward (not noting Helen's suspicion). Heavens, no. 
She has all her war paint on then. 

Helen (relieved, laying down the photograph. Care- 
lessly). I should hope so. This photograph certainly flat- 
ters her, and with what a slanting hand she signs her name ! 
Hadn't we better get our things on so as to be ready? 
(Pausing as a thought occurs to her.) Say, Ward, when 
you make your little speech, how should I act? Should 
I applaud, or should I just sit still? 

Ward (helping her with her coat). Just as you please, 
dear. Or, no! If it isn't going well, applaud, but if the 
audience rise out of their seats, just sit still and smile as 
though you expected it all the time. 

Helen. All right. And you remember to make a deep 
bow. You'd better practice again. (Ward does so, rather 



10 AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 

solemnly. Approvingly.) There, that's better. (Ner- 
vously.) But get on your things so that we'll be ready. 

(The telephone rings. Helen starts forward to answer 
it hut Ward steps in front of her.) 

Ward. That's Miss Baker at last. (In honeyed tones 
in the receiver.) Hello, this is Mr. Howe. What's that? 
(His expression changes.) Aunt Harriet! (He gulps.) 
Oh, of course, come right up. Certainly we are glad to 
see — to see you. (He puts the receiver on the hook and 
turns helplessly to Helen.) 

Helen (aghast). Aunt Harriet! This is what I've felt 
in my bones. 

Ward. Well, don't stand there boasting about your 
bones. What shall we dof 

Helen (weakly). We'll simply have to tell her and take 
the consequences. 

Ward (groans). It isn't so simple. If that play isn't a 
success I'll have to touch her for some money tomorrow. 
We can't tell her! 

Helen. Oh, what shall we do? (Brightening.) Oh, I 
know. Let's bundle her off to bed and then we'll slip out. 

Ward. But we have to leave in a few minutes, and 
besides she'll see these clothes. 

Helen. Oh, this coat — 

The door bell rings. Helen throws her coat onto a 
chair as Aunt Harriet enters. The hell hop, grinning, 
follozvs her with a battered Gladstone bag and a large 
bandbox, which he places inside the room and then leaves. 
Aunt Harriet is a spare woman of forty-five or so, with 
a rather prim manner, which seems, however, to he of 
habit rather than an inborn characteristic. Her clothes 
plainly show evidences of being village made and she car- 
ries an old-fashioned reticule. 

Aunt Harriet (glancing around. Cheerfully). Well, 
here I am. Surprised to see me, aren't you? 

Helen (zvith forced animation). Indeed we are. Aunt 
Harriet. But you must be simply worn out with your trip. 
Let me help you take off your hat and I'll get my bed 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 11 

ready for you so that you can be asleep in a few minutes. 
{She rips off Aunt Harriet's hat and rushes into the 
bedroom.) 

Ward {heartily). Yes, that's just the thing, Aunt Har- 
riet. We can't have you all tired out tomorrow. 

Helen {rushing hack). Ward, why don't you take your 
aunt's valise in? 

Ward. Oh, I didn't think of that. {He snatches tip the 
valise and runs into_ the bedroom.) Come on, Aunt Harriet. 

Helen. Let me unbutton your shoes. Aunt Harriet. 
You really look completely tired out. 

Aunt Harriet {who has been trying to talk several 
times). I'll unbutton my own shoes — when the time comes, 
Helen. {She seats herself deliberately on the chair near 
the center table and places her reticule on the table.) Now, 
why this rush? 

Ward {who has come back, ingratiatingly). Why, you 
go to bed long before this at home, and you know, dear 
Aunt Harriet, we want you to feel perfectly at home. 

Helen {quickly). Yes, and, Aunt Harriet, you do look 
so tired. And I am sure you will fall asleep the second 
your head touches the pillow. 

Aunt Harriet {seats herself more firmly. Helen looks 
apprehensively at Ward, who, back of his aunt, looks at 
his watch and holds up seven fingers despairingly). 
I don't feel sleepy. 

Ward. That's because you don't know how sleepy you 
are, Aunt Harriet. In fact, I don't think I ever saw you 
so sleepy in your life — 

Helen. And besides it's been such a sleepy day — and 
then with that long trip. 

Aunt Harriet {calmly). Where are you going? 

Helen and Ward {in chorus). Why — er — nowhere. 

Aunt Harriet {significantly). Perhaps I should have 
said where were you going? 

Helen. Why, Aunt Harriet, such a funny question! 

Aunt Harriet. Then why are you all dressed up? 

Helen. Oh, we always dress up in the evenings. 



12 AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 

Ward. That's the usual custom in New York, auntie. 

Aunt Harriet. Well, then, / had better change my 
dress. I brought one along — 

Helen {in consternation). Oh, but auntie, we can't 
think of having you change tonight. 

Aunt Harriet (grimly). Well, you know, when in 
Rome do as the Romans do ! 

Ward (as though to a child). Tomorrow night you can 
do that, auntie, but not tonight. 

Aunt Harriet (rising, energetically). There's no time 
like the present, as I have always said. And you needn't 
talk bed to me any longer. (Emphatically.) I'm not going 
to bed. (She sees Helen's opera cloak on the chair.) If 
you weren't going out, what have you that coat lying there 
for? 

Helen. Oh, It was rather chilly here and I thought I'd 
throw it over my shoulders — 

Aunt Harriet. H-m. If you call this chilly, the brim- 
stone place they mention in the Bible can't hold many- 
terrors. 

Helen (shocked). Why, auntie. (Ward, for all his 
nervousness, has difficulty in controlling his laughter.) 

Aunt Harriet (seemingly careless). This is a nice 
place you have. Pretty expensive, though, isn't it? 

Ward (with a warning shake of his head to Helen). 
Oh, it doesn't cost as much as it looks, Aunt Harriet. 

Helen (hastily). We get it at quite a bargain — 

Aunt Harriet. Humph. You certainly are remarkable 
people if you can drive a bargain with a New York hotel 
manager. (She starts tozvard the bedroom.) But talking 
will never get my dress changed — 

Helen (persuasively). Oh, but auntie, if you don't get 
rested you can easily get sick with all these germs flying 
around — 

Ward. Yes, we have a fearful infantile paralysis scare 
here, Aunt Harriet. If you'd only read the papers you'd 
realize how necessary it is for you to conserve your 
strength. Please go to bed. 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 13 

Aunt Harriet (tartly). I do read the papers, young 
man — more than you evidently have any idea that I do. 
(Ward and Helen glance at each other anxiously. Aunt 
Harriet notices the magazines on the table and goes over 
to examine them.) Ah, I see you have a lot of theatrical 
magazines here — and this doubtless is the picture of an 
actress. You must be interested in the theater? 

Helen {attempting indifference). Oh, are they theat- 
rical magazines? They must have been left here by the 
previous occupant of this room. 

Aunt Harriet. Humph! {Turns to Ward.) I saw in 
one of those papers you don't think I read, that a young 
fellow by the name of Wardmarth Howe had written a 
play that was to be produced tonight for the first time. 
You don't happen to know that Ward Howe, do you? 

Ward {striving to conceal his alarm). Why, what 
strange coincidences do happen ! To think of a playwright 
of all people bearing my name! He must be a queer kind 
of chap. 

Aunt Harriet {meaningly). Yes, I think he is. 

Helen {feverishly). Oh, Ward Howe is such a com- 
mon name, Aunt Harriet. 

Aunt Harriet {sharply). Is it? I named him, and 
goodness knows, though I didn't approve of him getting 
the Howe part of his name, I certainly thought the Ward- 
marth part of it would make him different from every 
Tom, Dick and Harry you meet. 

Helen {hastily). Oh, it's different, all right. 

Aunt Harriet {as she starts for the bedroom door). 
Oh, by the way. Ward, how is the law getting on? With 
your insistence on my going to bed the second I stepped 
in the door, I haven't had a chance to ask you yet. 

Ward (laughing uncomfortably). They are not making 
a compendium of my sayings in law yet. Aunt Harriet. 

Helen (trying to help him out). You see, auntie, law 
isn't very popular just now — with all these investigations 
that are going on. 

Aunt Harriet (half-way to the door, dryly). No, I 



14 AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 

suppose that isn't a good time for lawyers to be around. 
But I won't get dressed if I stay here, (hi the doorway.) 
It won't take me a minute, and then I'll be ready to go 
wherever you are going, in spite of the fact that you are 
going "nowhere." (She vanishes, closing the door behind 
her.) 

Ward (hoarsely). Do you suppose she suspects the 
truth? 

Helen. How can she? We warded her oflf pretty well. 

Ward. Yes, you did — especially on the law. 

Helen. Well, I had to say something. 

Ward (desperately). Well, we're in for it now. (Look- 
ing at his zvatch.) That t^^xi will be here in less than five 
minutes. 

Helen (on the verge of tears). What shall we do? 

Ward (passing hack and forth). I'm going to tell her! 
We simply can't miss this first performance. How do we 
know that there ever will be another? 

Helen (getting out of her chair). Oh, you can't tell 
her. We've got to find some other way. Supposing the 
play fails, then what shall we do? 

Ward (savagely). I'll get a job digging sewers, if noth- 
ing else ! 

Helen. And then how will you get the leisure to write 
another play? No, we must manage her some way. 

Ward. My dear, you do not manage her some way — 
she manages you. 

Helen. Now don't get sarcastic but! let me think. 
(Brightening up.) I know! You put on your hat and coat 
and say that you are going out to get a newspaper. Then 
you can slip off and tomorrow morning you can tell her that 
you met a prospective client — 

Ward (joyfully). Helen, I take it all back. You are a 
wonder. (Pausing.) But, though that's all right for me, 
how will you get there? 

Helen. I'll have to come later. Oh, I know. I'll de- 
velop a sudden headache and have to go to bed and then 
I'll slip out. 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 15 

Ward. Not with Aunt Harriet. She will sit up and 
doctor you. 

Helen. Oh, dear ! Well, we can't talk about it any 
longer. You go on and I'll manage some way. 

Ward. But I want you to see the play, dear, and hear 
my speech 

Helen. Well, they won't ask you for that the minute 
the curtain goes up, will they? Don't mind me. I'll man- 
age in spite of your aunt. {She goes toward the clothes 
tree.) Here, put your hat and coat on. 

Ward {yielding and nervously struggling into his over- 
coat), I suppose it's the only way. But you take a taxi, 
then, and I'll tell the manager to look out for you, and I'll 
hang around the foyer myself. And if it comes to the worst, 
tell her and then clear out. 

Helen. Miss Baker hasn't called up yet, either, has she ? 

Ward. No, and I don't understand why. {He puts on 
his opera hat.) 

Helen. Oh, heavens, take it ofif! She will surely sus- 
pect something if you wear your opera hat down to get a 
newspaper. Where's your other one? 

Ward {uncertainly). I don't know. It must be in my 
room. {He starts for the bedroom.) 

Helen. Oh, hurry. {She runs after him.) Let me go, 
too. You never can find anything. {They get caught in 
the doorway hut squeeze through.) 

Aunt Harriet opens her door and comes out, carrying 
a dark evening coat, which she deposits in an inconspicu- 
ous heap on a chair. She has an air of excitement and 
listens for a second to the voices in the other room. Spy- 
ing the hand mirror and pozuder puff on the table, sJie 
tiptoes over, picks up the mirror and gingerly pozvders her- 
self. She very evidently is not used to the process, but 
seems to enjoy it. She is dressed in a prim and berufflcd 
but rather becoming dark silk dress. Ward arid Helen 
come out of the bedroom. Ward wears a derby. Aunt 
Harriet, when she sees that they have not noticed her. 



16 AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 

quickly puts doivn the glass and puff and stands primly 
away from the table. 

Helen (to Ward). Now, quick, I'll bring your other 
hat with me — 

Ward. Sh ! Here's Aunt Harriet. 

Helen {somewhat flustered). Ready so soon. Aunt 
Harriet ? 

Aunt Harriet (smoothly). Where are you going. 
Ward? 

Helen (hurriedly). He's just going out to get a news- 
paper. 

Ward (awkwardly). I thought you might like to see 
the news. 

Aunt Harriet. Oh, you needn't trouble yourself to 
go out on that score, Ward. I bought the paper at the 
station and have it right in my bag here. (She goes to her 
reticule find extracts the evening paper. Helen and Ward 
gaze at each other crestfallen.) 

Helen (brightening). Oh, how thoughtful of you, 
Aunt Harriet, but that won't save Ward this trip. I feel 
that I have one of my terrible headaches coming on, and 
he was going to stop in at the drug store at the same time 
and get me some medicine. 

Aunt Harriet. Your eyes do look kind of wild. (She 
turns again to her reticule. Helen looks triumphantly at 
Ward and he applauds noiselessly, grinning broadly.) 

Ward (edging toward the hall door). Well, the quicker 
I go the better. 

Aunt Harriet (producing a bottle). I can save you 
that trip, too. Ward. Here's the best cure for a headache 
you can get. (Ward and Helen look at each other in 
despair. Aunt Harriet engagingly.) Here we are, all 
dressed up and no place to go. And such nice people as 
we are, too. 

(Ward, looking at his zvatch and plainly at the limit of 
his patience, is about to burst out. Helen shakes her 
head at him zvarningly. The telephone rings.) 

Helen (ejaculates). Oh, that must be Miss Baker. 



AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 17 

Ward (strides to the telephone). Hello! Hello! Yes, 
this is Mr. Howe. What was that, Miss Baker? "Do you 
really love me?" Was that what you had decided? That 
sounds good, especially the way you say it. Yes, yes. I 
know you are in a hurry. I'll see you later. Good-bye. 
(He hangs up the receiver.) 

(At Helena's mention of Miss Baker^s name, Aunt 
Harriet, smiling to herself, has picked up the photograph 
on the table to verify the signature, hut as the unhappy 
Ward continues the interviezv, her expression changes to 
horrified astonishment. She looks from the uncomfortable 
but not jealous Helen to the uncomfortable but not guilty 
Ward, and cannot comprehend.) 

Aunt Harriet (bursting out. To Ward.) Well, the 
idea ! Is that the kind of a man you are ! And right before 
your wife, too! (With outstretched arms to Helen.) Oh, 
you poor child! To think that we both have been so de- 
ceived ! (Ward looks aghast at his aunfs outbreak, not 
knowing what to make of it.) 

Helen (in Aunt Harriet's arms). But this is all right, 
auntie. 

Aunt Harriet (holding Helen off at arm's length). 
All right! Do you mean to say that when a woman asks 
your husband, "Do you really love me?" right before your 
eyes — your ears, I mean — it's all right? What is New 
York coming to? 

Helen (confused, yet wanting to laugh). But you don't 
understand, Aunt Harriet. This is all right. 

Ward. It's only an actress, auntie. 

Aunt Harriet (snorts). Only an actress! 

Helen (hastily). She's old — 

Ward (not realizing that he is giving himself away). 
She's just saying over some lines in a play — 

Aunt Harriet. Some lines in a play! 

Helen (shaking her head at Ward and trying to save 
the situation). Auntie, really it's nothing to worry about. 
She's nothing but a silly actress. She says things like that 
all the time without meaning them a bit. She's just a joke. 



18 AUNT HARRIET'S NIGHT OUT 

Aunt Harriet (picking up photograph again). Strikes 
me she's pretty young and good looking to be called a 
joke. 

Helen (quickly). Oh, she's forty, auntie, and Ward 
says she has her war paint on in that picture — 

Aunt Harriet (a light of understanding spreads over 
her face. With- an enigmatical smile, to Ward). It seems 
to me I read in that paper — you didn't think I'd see — that 
Miss Baker was to be in that play by Wardmarth Howe. 
(Szveetly.) It doesn't happen that you and that Ward- 
marth Howe are the same person, does it, Ward? You 
said he was a queer chap. 

Helen (in alarm) . Why, auntie! 

Ward (in a tone of ''Do what you like — / won't he held 
dozvn any longer"). Yes, I wrote that play, Aunt Harriet. 

Aunt Harriet (demurely) . Well, I hope I don't need 
to hint much more for an invitation to go to the first night 
performance. (Helen and Ward can hardly believe their 
cars. Aunt Harriet chuckles zvith glee and reaches for 
her coat.) Isn't it getting time to go? 

Ward and Helen. Aunt Harriet, you mean that? 

Aunt Harriet. What else do you think I came to New 
York for? 

Helen (ecstatically embracing Aunt Harriet). Oh, 
you dear! 

Ward (wringing her hand at the same time). You're a 
brick, Aunt Harriet. 

Aunt Harriet (somewhat fussed). Well, don't hug 
me any more. Let's be off. (They all make a scramble 
for their wraps. Aunt Harriet in the doorzvay, happily). 
My, I always wanted to write a play myself, but I never 
thought you had the brains for it. Ward. 

Curtain. 



Deacon Dubbs 

By WALTER BEN HARE 

Price, 25 Cents 

A rural comedy-drama in 3 acts; 5 males, 5 females. Time, 
2iy4 hours. One scene throughout, a farmj-ard, not difficult to set. 
A play of pathos, clean cut rural comed5^ local color and a touch 
of sensation, making a truly great offering for amateurs. It is 
professional-like in construction, yet easily witliin the scope of any 
amateur society. The types are true to life, not exaggerated cari- 
catures. The star role is a comedy old farmer, not the usual stage 
type of hayseed, but the real, genuine, kind hearted^ wise old 
Deacon, a part as appealing in its way, as Uncle Josh Whitcomb, 
Nathaniel Berry or David Harum. The heroine, Rose Raleigh, 
the brave little school ma'am, is a strong, emotional part. A 
country boy and a Swede hired girl are great comedy parts; also 
a comedy old maid (almost a star part), tomboy soubrette. A 
finely drawn hero, character auctioneer, an excellent villain, etc. 
The characters are almost all equally good. A male quartet and 
a crowd of villagers will greatly add to the success of the play. 
A feature scene in each act: A country auction, a country wed- 
ding, a country husking bee. This play is a sure hit. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — Rose Cottage on an afternoon in June. Yennie Yensen, 
the Swedish hired girl, wants to borrow some yumps and decides to 
bid on the hired man at the auction, as "he bane a purty gude 
looking feller." Miss Philipena arranges for the auction sale. 
Rose and Amos, "Out of the broken ruins of time fair blossoms 
grow, God's last amen is a white rose." The Deacon arrives from 
Sorghum Center, State o' "^^''est Virginny. "Ding, dong, bell, 
pussy's in the well." The farm is sold to Rose Raleigh for two 
thousand dollars. The defeat of Rawdon Crawley. 

Act II. — Same scene, a morning in August. Wedding bells. 
"Happy is the bride that the sun shines on." Deuteronomy and 
Yennie bring wedding presents. Miss Philipena takes a nap with 
disastrous results. Yennie is scared. "Your face, it bane put on 
backwards," Back from the grave. "You are my wife. Take 
off that bridal wreath, that sparkling necklace." "Who is this 
man?" The Deacon arrests Rawdon Crawley, 

Act III. — Same scene but a year later and in autumn. The 
husking bee. Songs and merriment by the villagers. "Rawdon 
Crawley has escaped!" "This is my punishment and my punish- 
ment is more than I can bear." The Deacon returns from New 
York. Miss Philipena and the fractious cow. The Deacon's night- 
mare. "Cork, cork, cork!" A wheelbarrow for two. The Virginia 
reel. The death of Rawdon Crawley. "We'll have a double wed- 
ding and for a honeymoon we'll all go down to Sorghum Center, 
State o' West Virginny." 

Their First Quarrel 

By CHARLES NEVERS HOLMES. 

Price, 15 Cents 

A comedy; 1 male, 1 female. Time, 15 minutes. A bit of glue, 
which has the appearance of chewing gum, underneath the seat of 
a chair — and "that's how the trouble began." A subtle bit of humor 
that will surely please. Could be pla yed in a parlor without scenery. 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



The Spark of Life 

By HARRY L. NEWTON 

Price, 25 Cents 

Fantastic comedy in 3 "acts; 4 males, 4 females. Time, 2 
hours. Scenes: 1 interior. 1 exterior. Characters: Herman 
Heinie, a German doll maker. Bud Barlow, a college youth. 
Tommy Tucker, the "darling child." Willard Peck, the mysterious 
stranger. Clarice, Bud's sweetheart. Toots Snodgrass, the house- 
maid, Mrs. Heinie, the old doll maker's second wife. Dora Mee, 
a neighbor's daughter. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. — Herman Heinie, the eccentric doll maker of Happy 
Hollow, searching for the Spark of Life with which to put the 
breath of life into his Masterpiece. Toots the maid of all work, 
who is afraid of work but knows how to extract a tip. "Ain't 
he just splen-did." The Mephistophelian plot which brings the 
doll to life. Everybody happy but not for long. The mysterious 
stranger "I beg your pardon." The dream comes true, but — 

Act II. — In which Mrs. Heinie falls in love with the devil, and 
the road of true love has many twists and turns. The mysterious 
stranger w^ho will not "stay put." A new recipe for Angel Food, 
spoiled by too many cooks. The Masterpiece disappears. Sixes 
and sevens. "I'll paint my face and be a real lady." 

Act III. — "Everybody hates everybody they shouldn't and 
everybody loves everybody they shouldn't." Bud. the cause of it 
all, as popular as an Indian with the smallpox. The deception dis- 
closed. Herman turns o\ er a. new leaf. "I bought a new pair of 
trousers yesterday and by golly I'm going to wear them from now 
on. The worm turns, back to the kitchen where you belong. 
The fifty thousand dollar legacy sacrificed for love. A triple court- 
ship. "All my life I've been searching for the Spark of Life and 
now at last I've found it — it's love, that's what it is, love." "Ain't 
he just splen-did." 

Happy School Days 

By JESSIE A. KELLEY 

Price, 25 Cents 

Humorous entertainment; 14 males, 11 females. Time, about 
1^/4 hours. Scene: Easy interior. The old school entertainment has 
long been a prime favorite with societies, churches, etc., as a sure 
means of raising money. This is a new phase and breaks away 
from the traditional setting — the little school at the village, or at 
the country cross-roads. It being more cosmopolitan^ depicting 
the humorous trials of the city principal and the teachers of the 
various grades. Introduces impish and fun-craving youngsters 
of many nationalities; their parents with ridiculous complaints and 
absurd ideas of our school system; janitor, school physician, truant 
officer, etc. More characters could be easily introduced. Drills, 
recitations, etc., may be added according to talent. The comic 
effect will be decidedly enhanced if played by prominent or elderly 
people. 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid, Unless Different Price Is Given 



M. F. 

Winning Widow, 2 acts, VA hrs. 

(25c) 2 4 

Women Who Did, 1, lir. . . (2Sc) 17 
Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 8 3 

FARCES, COMEDIETAS, Etc. 

All on a Summer's Day, 40 min. 4 6 

April Fools, 30 min 3 

Assessor, The, 10 min 3 2 

Baby Show at Pineville, 20 min. 19 

Billy's Chorus" Girl, 25 min... 2 3 

Billy's Mishap, 20 min 2 3. 

Borrowed Luncheon, 20 min., 5 

Borrowing Trouble, 20 min 3 5 

Case Against Casey, 40 min... 23 

Country Justice, 15 min 8 

Cow that Kicked Chicago, 20 m. 3 2 

Divided Attentions, 35 min ^. 1 4 

Dude in a Cvclone, 20 min.... 4 2 

Family Strike, 20 min 3 3 

First-Class Hotel, 20 min 4 

For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 2 1 

Fudge and a Burglar, 15 min.. 5 

Fun in Photo Gallery, 30 min.. 6 10 
Great Medical Dispensary, 30 m. 6 
Great Pumpkin Case, 30 min.. 12 

Hans Von Smash, 30 min.... 4 3 

I'm Not Mesilf at All, 25 min. 3 2 
Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. 8 

Irish Linen Peddler, 40 min... 3 3 

Is the Editor In? 20 min... 4 2 

Kansas Immigrants, 20 min... 5 1 

Men Not Wanted, 30 min 8 

Mike Donovan's Courtship, 15 m. 1 3 

Mother Goose's Goslings, 30 m. 7 9 

Mrs. Jenkins' Brilliant Idea, 35m. 8 

Mrs. Stubbins' Book Agent, 30 m. 3 2 

My Wife's Relations, 1 hr 4 6 

Not a Man in the House, 40 m. 5 

Pair of Lunatics, 20 min 1 1 

Patsy O'Wang, 35 min....... 4 3 

Pat, the Apothecary, 35 min.. 6 2 

Persecuted Dutchman, 30 min. 6 3 

Regular Fix, 35 min 6 4 

Second Childhood, 15 min.... 2 2 

Shadows, 35 min 2 2 

Sing a Song of Seniors, 30 min. 7 

Taking Father's Place, 30 min. 5 3 

Taming a Tiger, 30 min 3 

That Rascal Pat, 30 min 3 2 

Those Red Envelopes, 25 min. 4 4 
Too Much of a Good Thing, 45 

min 3 6 

Turn Him Out, 35 min 3 2 

Two Aunts and a Photo, 20 m. 4 
Two Gentlemen in a Fix, 15 m. 2 

Two Ghosts in White, 20 min. . 8 

Two of a Kind, 40 min 2 3 

Uncle Dick's Mistake, 20 min.. 3 2 

Wanted a Correspondent, 45 m. 4 4 

Wanted a Hero, 20 min 1 1 



M. F. 

Wide Enough for Two, 45 min. 5 2 

Wrong Baby, 25 min 8 

Yankee Peddler, 1 hr 7 3 

VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES. MON- 
OLOGUES, ETHIOPIAN PLAYS. 

Ax'in' Her Father, 25 min 2 3 

Booster Club of Blackville, 25 m.lO 
Breakfast Food for Two, 20 m. 1 1 

Cold Finish, 15 min 2 1 

Colored Honeymoon, 25 min. ..22 
Coon Creek Courtship, 15 min. 1 1 
Coming Champion, 20 min.... 2 
Coontown Thirteen Club, 25 m. 14 

Counterfeit Bills, 20 min 1 1 

Darktown Fire Brigade, 25 min. 10 
Doings of a Dude, 20 min.... 2 1 

Dutch Cocktail, 20 min 2 

For Reform, 20 min 4 

Fresh Timothy Hay, 20 min.. 2 1 
Glickman, the Glazier, 25 min. 1 1 
Good Momin' Judge, 35 min.. 9 2 

Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Hey, Rube! 15 min 1 

Home Run, 15 min 1 i 

Jumbo Jum, 30 min 4 3 

Little Red School House, 20 m. 4 

Love and Lather, 35 min 3 2 

Marriage and After, 10 min.. 1 

Memphis Mose, 25 min 5 1 

Mischievous Nigger, 25 min.. 4 2 

Mistaken Miss, 20 min 1 1 

Mr. and Mrs. Fido, 20 min 1 1 

Oh, Doctor! 30 min 6 2 

One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 
Oshkosh Next Week, 20 min.. 4 

Oyster Stew, 10 min 2 

Pete Yansen's Gurl's Moder, 10m. 1 

Pickles for Two, 15 min 2 

Pooh Bah of Peacetown, 35 min. 2 2 
Prof. Black's Funnygraph, 15 m. 6 

Sham Doctor, 10 min 4 2 

Si and I, 15 min 1 

Special Sale, 1 5 min 2 

Stage Struck Darky, 10 min.. 2 1 
Sunny Son of Italy, 15 min.. 1 

Time Table, 20 min 1 1 

Tramp and the Actress, 20 min. 1 I 
Troubled by Ghosts, 10 min... 4 
Troubles of Rozinski, 15 min.. 1 
Two Jay Detectives, 15 min.. 3 

Umbrella Mender, 15 min 2 

Uncle Jeff, 25 min 5 2 

WhatHappened to Hannah, 15m. 1 I 



A great number of 

Standard and Amateur Plays 

not found here are listed In 

Denlson's Catalogue 



T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers, 1 54 W. Randolph St. , Chicago 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



POPULAR ENTERTAI 

Price, Illustrated Paper Co 




IN this Series 
are found 
books touching 
every feature 
in the enter- 
tainment field. 
Finely mad e, 
good paper, 
clear print and 
each book has 
an attractive 
individual cov- 
er design. 



A Partial List 

DIALOGUES 

All Sorts of Dialogues. 

Selected, fine for older pupils. 
Catchy Comic Dialogues. 

Very clever; for young people. 
Children's Comic Dialogues. 

From six to eleven years of age. 
Country School Dialogues. 

Brand new, original. 
Dialogues for District Schools. 

For country schools. 
Dialogues from Dickens. 

Thirteen selections. 
The Friday Afternoon Dialogues. 

Over 50,000 copies sold. 
From Tots to Teens. 

Dialogues and recitations. 
Humorous Homespun Dialogues. 

For older ones. 
Little People's Plays. 

From 7 to 13 years of age. 
Lively Dialogues. 

For all ages; mostly humorous. 
Merry Little Dialogues. 

Thirty-eight original selections. 
When the Lessons are Over. 

Dialogues, drills, plays. 
Wide Awake Dialogues. 

Original successful. 

SPEAKERS, MONOLOGUES 

Choice Pieces for Little People. 

A child's speaker. 
The Comic Entertainer. 

Recitations, monologues, dialogues. 
Dialect Readings. 

Irish, Dutch, Negro, Scotch, etc. 
The Favorite Speaker. 

Choice prose and poetry. 
The Friday Afternoon Speaker. 

For pupils of all ages. 
Humorous Monologues. 

Particularly for ladies. 
Monologues for Young Folks. 

Clever, humorous, original. 




M( 



017 401 281 7 



Scrap- DOOK neciiaiiort»j='— -^ 

Choice collections, pathetic, hu- 
morous, descriptive, prose, 
poetry. 15 Nos., per^Mo. 26c 

DRILLS 

The Best Drill Book. 

Very popular drills and marches. 
The Favorite Book of Drills. 

Drills that sparkle with originality. 
Little Playc With Drills. 

For children from 6 to 11 years. 
The Surprise Drill Book. 

Fresh, novel, drills and marches. 

SPECIALTIES 

The Boys' Entertainer. 

Monologues, dialogues, drills. 
Children's Party Book. 

Invitations, decorations, games. 
The Days We Celebrate. 

Entertainments for all the holidays. 
Good Things for Christmas. 

Recitations, dialogues, drills. 
Good Things for Sunday Schools. 

Dialogues, exercises, recitations. 
Good Things for Thanksgiving. 

A gem of a book. 
Good Things for Washington 

and Lincoln Birthdays. 
Little Folks' Budget. 

Easy pieces to speak, songs. 
One Hundred Entertainments. 

New parlor diversions, socials. 
Patriotic Celebrations. 

Great variety of material. 
Pictured Readings and Tableaux. 

Entirely original features. 
Pranks and Pastimes. 

Parlor games for children. 
Private Theatricals. 

How to put on plays. 
Shadow Pictures, Pantomimes, 

Charades, and how to prepare. 
Tableaux and Scenic Readings. 

New and novel; 'for all ages. 
Twinkling Fingers and Sway- 
ing Figures. For little tots. 
Yuletide Entertainments. 

A choice Christmas collection. 

MINSTRELS, JOKES 

Black American Joker. 

Minstrels' and end men's gags. 
A Bundle of Burnt Cork Comedy. 

Monologues, stump speeches, etc. 
Laughland,via the Ha-Ha Route. 

A merry trip for fun tourists. 
Negro Minstrels. 

All about the business. 
The New Jolly Jester. 

Funny stories, jok ^a, gags, etc. 

Larcre Illustrated CataloRue Free 



T.S.DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers,154 W.Randolph St., Chicago 



